


Kinks and Cages

by calmlikesurrender



Series: Started but don't plan on finishing. [4]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Cheating, M/M, Polyamory, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-13
Updated: 2013-06-13
Packaged: 2017-12-14 20:38:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/841131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/calmlikesurrender/pseuds/calmlikesurrender
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry and Liam are together, but Zayn wants in and it’s fine for a while before things get complicated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kinks and Cages

Zayn’s not even sure how it happens. It’s so… God, it’s _fast_. It’s terrifying.

But at the same time, it makes all the sense in the world- this is how they find each other. A half-empty bottle, a cigarette, and Harry’s voice trailing off.

“I just wonder sometimes.. I get sort of… There’s more than…”

 _Yeah._ Zayn breathes out into Harry’s parted lips,so close his eyes start to lose focus, memorizing the pattern of his pores.

It’s weird to be this close to him and still feel comfortable. Zayn’s the third wheel here. It’s been Harry and Liam for so long, for years, with Zayn just fitting in slow, feeling Harry’s eyes on him, but too scared to act on it.

Then there was this one night and an empty bed and he’s not one to turn it down. Not when Harry licks his lip then bites down on it and Liam’s voice has never been this low, this wrecked. Or at least, Zayn’s never heard it.

Liam’s hand is on his thigh, Harry’s on his forearm. Zayn’s dragging his fingers up through Harry’s scalp, long scratches that make him whine and press in closer.

 How Liam’s eyes are the same brown as Harry’s curls and Zayn’s voice gets low like Harry’s after a swig.

“This is fucking-”

“One time-”

“Maybe-”

Decisions in the dark. He could kiss him. He could lean in a little and kiss him. Lean back and have his head on Liam’s chest.

Then Liam surprises them all by reaching up and cupping Zayn’s cheek. He drags his thumb over his bottom lip, stares him down.

“It can’t just be sex, okay?” he says.

Zayn nods slow.

“It’s not.”

Harry whispers to Liam, “I told you, didn’t I?”

“You told me you wanted us both.”

What can Harry say to that? It’s true. He does. But not if it means there’s this weird gap between them. Not if Liam’s only halfway there.

“I don’t want to do this if you’re not sure,” Zayn says slow, “Both of you,” sits back until he’s leaning against the headboard. Liam’s hand is still on his thigh and he squeezes a little.

“I’m sure,” Liam says, to Zayn maybe but his eyes never leave Harry’s, “I swear I’m sure. I just don’t want it to be _this_ and nothing else, and I’m scared that’s all it’s ever going to be. What if we can’t make it work?” His voice dips a little and he and Harry lean into each other, their foreheads touching. Harry holds Liam by the back of his neck, sighs long and deep.

“Give it one night,” Harry says, and Zayn sucks in a breath, feels his cock start to harden, “Okay? And if it’s not, then it’s fine and we tried and we know, but I think this could be something. I think it could be like, _something_.”

And it’s one night, then it’s two then three then a month and nothing changes and Zayn can’t remember what it felt like with just one person. He can’t imagine ever not being the center of a whirlwind, with two sets of lips, two sets of hands, so much skin he couldn’t touch all of it if he tried.

His favorite is when Harry kisses his way down his stomach in the morning and Liam’s arms are around him so tight he can’t breathe, but he’s pretty sure, all fuzzy and bright, that he never wanted to. Who needs breathing? Or air? Or anything else when he’s got Harry’s lips snug around his dick, and Liam fingers down pressing into him gently, his lips to Zayn’s ear all, “Baby, you’re shaking. Tell me if this is too much?” before he lines up and nudges into him slow from behind but Zayn still moans like he’s being fucked into the mattress, and Harry hums around his cock, and between the two of them every night, he’s not sitting straight ever and he has to hear all of Niall’s jokes that he’s going to need stitches, but he doesn’t even care.

And when Louis smiles and nudges Harry, whispers in the dark that the three of them fit like puzzle piece, Harry shakes his head.

No, it’s deeper than that, right? It’s in them. Puzzles are just slapped together, a chunk of cardboard sort of- he’d watched a special once. They take these massive plates of cardboard and super impose images on them. Then they lay them flat and cut out the pieces that way. They take something whole and break it up. It’s not a compliment, really, to say people fit like puzzle pieces.

“So what?” Louis laughs, “Soul mates?”

“Yeah,” Harry says, without even thinking, “Yeah, maybe.”

That night when Liam holds him closer, breathes warm and slow into the back of his neck, when Zayn’s hands are around his waist, Harry has to squeeze his eyes shut to stop himself from getting all embarrassing and tearing up because this was exactly what he wanted.

\--

Harry goes back home for two weeks, and it’s the first time he’s not with them.

Zayn and Liam lie back in bed and count the little grooves on the popcorn ceiling and Zayn has to try his hardest not to just slip down and take Liam’s cock from his pants because it’s been three days so far of stoic resistance, to not go below the belt without Harry being there, and he’s had it up to Heaven with chastity and his fist at this point. He’d much rather have heart-wrenching guilt if it comes with a stiff one.

But that train of thought just makes it worse, and he’s recalling a few nights before Harry’d gone home, when he’d come so hard from just their filthy idea of foreplay. He tells Liam as much, recalling slowly how amazing it had felt to have Harry’s lips stretched around him, his long fingers easing him open. To have Liam’s hands on his chest, to have him breathing in his ear, telling him how good he looked taking it like that. How perfect he is, how he’s all theirs and no one else’s.

But then it just makes him think about how gorgeous Liam’s lips look when they’re raw and a little swollen and so red it’s like he’s wearing lipstick. How he tries to keep his hands on both of them at the same time. How he never closes his eyes.

How he whispers Zayn’s name with his lips sticky, kisses Harry, sucks Zayn’s warm come right out of his mouth and swallows it down with a moan, slick little gasping noises, running his tongue over Harry’s lips after, the corner of his mouth to make sure he gets every drop.

“I love you,” he stammers, trips over it, blinks past tears, “Fuck, I love you so much.”

Liam’s hand stills and he sucks in a breath, “Please, you can’t- Just don’t say stuff like that.”

“I-”

“Please,” he chokes out, “Please, Zayn. I need a minute. A second. I don’t know, I need to think, okay?”

Zayn nods and pulls away a little, leans back against the headboard, faces Liam and stares at him like he’s trying to read his mind.

“If it’s the three of us, then it’s alright,” he offers, a little breathless. A hand trailing up to his cock lazily, stroking it slow just so he doesn’t go insane.

“But Harry’s not here,” Liam says, trying very hard not to let his eyes fall on Zayn’s lap and debauch the sense of overwhelming clarity he’d experienced all of a sudden.

“I don’t care. I’m sure you guys fool around when I’m not there.”

“We don’t,” Liam admits, “If it’s the three of us, then it’s _only_ us.”

Zayn smiles slow, “Unless it’s just the two of us, right?”

Liam sighs. Zayn ignores it, “Like now. We don’t even have to tell him. It’s two minutes-”

“Ten,” Liam interjects, crossing his arms, mildly affronted.

Zayn rolls his eyes, waves his unoccupied hand around, “Okay, whatever, ten. But you know you fucking lose it the moment I get my mouth on your-”

“Okay! Okay, fine. Sure, so we set limits, though, right? Like…”

“Like no kissing, I guess.”

Liam nods, “And nothing like, intimate.”

Zayn laughs and sits up a little, drags his thumb over his slit and moans, his eyes falling shut, “I’m- Fuck, I’m going to say no to that one. I- I think intimate is practically _defined_ by your dick fucking splitting me-”

“Zayn!”

It takes almost another half hour before they come to any sound conclusion. All thanks to Liam, of course, who remains rigidly focused despite Zayn’s teasing and palming and licking- when he _may_ have faltered on the gentlemanly stance for a bit.

“So what, no kisses and no pet names?” Zayn sighs, lying out on his stomach next to Liam who’s on his back, watching the ceiling like it’s the most interesting thing in the world.

“And no _I love you_ either,” he adds quietly, but Zayn scoffs.

“That’s stupid.”

“No, it’s-”

“ _Really_ stupid.”

Before Liam can attempt a sound argument, Zayn’s up in his lap, leaning in to him. He’s holding Liam’s arms down by his wrists.

“I’m going to tell you I love you whenever I want. However I want,” he says, staring him down.

\--

“Fuck. Yeah, that’s- Damn, Liam.”

Harry’s mouth is filthy. But in such a different way than Zayn’s. Liam doesn’t feel like he’s constantly trying to catch up. With Harry he can breathe.

And that should be enough. It should be a sign that he’s in too deep, but it isn’t and Liam hates that.  

He doesn’t even suck when Harry parts his lips with his fingers. Harry just presses down on his tongue, his lips wide, breath ragged.

“We don’t have to-We don’t even have to kiss. Liam, it’s- Baby, it’s whatever you want. Whatever you need,” he stammers, fisting into his shirt then starting to tug it over his head, making these little noises, hisses, moans, whatever, every time Liam grinds his hips up, pulls Harry down against him harder with his hands on his ass. He grips him so tight it’s almost painful, but Harry’s trembling. Pressing down against Liam’s thigh, thrusting into the sheets.

And he feels sick to his stomach because he’s done this and more with Zayn.

He almost says as much. Later when he’s lying back with Harry’s head cradled against his chest. When he’s got so much pressure on his lungs, he thinks he’s going to explode. Later, he almost lets it slip.

“Harry?”

“Hmm?” he grumbles, shifting a little, half asleep.

“Harry, I need to tell you something.”

But it’s not right and he lets the words pour out from somewhere lower than his lips. From his chest, from between his legs, Zayn’s mouth like clockwork.

“Liam, it’s the three of us,” Harry murmurs deep and slow, almost laughing, “Babe, I don’t care if you kiss. Why would I..,” he yawns, settles in more, “Why would I care..” then he’s snoring and Liam feels like he’s dodged a bullet only to back step right over a cliff because the next time he’s with Zayn, the feelings come rushing back.

“It’s not cheating. Liam, we’re together. It’s not cheating.”

“Then why are we always sneaking around?”

“I just want you alone sometimes,” Zayn says like it’s okay, but he can’t even look him in the eye.

Liam groans, “It makes me feel dirty, alright? I feel like a horrible person.”

But then he’s helping Zayn get his shirt off, then his trousers. Kissing his way down his chest to his hip, sucking a bruise right over the bone and he can’t remember the last time he and Harry rushed anything. Felt the sudden inclination to tear a few buttons, leave welts at the front door, just dropping enough to wriggle out of their pants.

And Zayn’s not helping at all. Making it worse, really.

“Come on, come on,” whispering while Liam fumbles with the lube, grabs Zayn under his thighs and lifts him up so he can wrap his legs around Liam’s waist. Struggle at staying steady when Liam starts to open him up quick and messy, precome smeared across their stomachs, lube coating his inner thighs, moaning around Liam’s lips, “Come- _Yeah, right there_ ,” when Liam curls his fingers, traces Zayn’s insides, makes his heart beat that much faster.


End file.
